附教学文本：北师大版高中英语选择性必修四Unit 10 Connection
Lesson 3 Anne of Green Gables
Marilla saw Matthew in the front yard and immediately rushed to the door. But when her eyes fell on the odd little figure in the stiff, ugly dress, with the long red hair and the eager, bright eyes, she froze in amazement.
“Matthew Cuthbert, who's that?” she asked. “Where is the boy?”
“There wasn't any boy,” said Matthew. “There was only her.”
He nodded at the child, remembering that he had never even asked her name.
“No boy! But there must have been a boy,” insisted Marilla. “We sent word to Mrs Spencer to bring a boy.”
“Well, she didn't. She brought her. She arrived at train station and couldn't be left there alone.”
During this dialogue the child had remained silent. Suddenly she seemed to grasp the full meaning of what had been said. She sprang forward a step and clasped her hands.
“You don't want me!” the girl cried. “You don't want me because I'm not a boy! I might have expected it. I might have known it was all too beautiful to last. I might have known nobody really did want me. Oh, what am I going to do? I'm going to burst into tears!”
Burst into tears she did. Sitting down on a chair by the table, throwing her arms on it, and burying her face in them, she proceeded to cry stormily. Marilla and Matthew looked at each other. Neither of them knew what to say or do. Finally Marilla stepped in to try to comfort the child.
“Well, well, there's no need to cry so about it.”
“Yes, there is need!” The child raised her head, revealing a tear-stained face. You would cry, too, if you were an orphan and had come to a place you thought was going to be home and found that they didn't want you because you weren't a boy.
“Well, don't cry anymore. We're not going to send you off tonight. You'll have to stay here until we investigate this affair. What's your name?”
“Anne,” said the child sadly.
“Well, come along, Anne. It's dinner time.”
They all sat down for dinner but Anne could not eat. She tried to enjoy the bread and butter and the apple jam out of the little glass dish by her plate but she had no appetite.
“You're not eating anything,” said Marilla sharply, eying her as if it were a serious problem. Anne sighed.
“I can't. I'm in the depths of despair. Can you eat when you are in the depths of despair?”
“I've never been in the depths of despair, so I can't say,” responded Marilla.
“Weren't you? Well, did you ever try to imagine you were in the depths of despair?”
“No, I didn't.”
“I guess she's tired,” said Matthew. “Best put her to bed, Marilla.”
Marilla had been wondering where Anne should be put to bed. She decided on the small bedroom on the first floor. She lit a candle and told Anne to follow her, which Anne did, taking her hat and bag from the hall table as she passed. The hall was perfectly clean; the little room in which she found herself seemed still cleaner.
Marilla set the candle on a three-legged table and turned down the bedclothes.
“Well, undress as quick as you can and go to bed. I'll come back in a few minutes for the candle. I daren't trust you to put it out yourself. You'd likely set the place on fire.”
When Marilla had gone, Anne looked around her sadly. The whitewashed walls were so painfully bare. The floor was bare, too. In one corner was the bed, a high, old-fashioned one of dark wood. Midway between table and bed was the window, with an icy white curtain over it. There was no restroom, but there was a wash stand with a faucet in the other corner. The whole room felt cold and unwelcoming, which sent a shiver through Anne's bones. With a sob she quickly undressed, put on her nightclothes and jumped into bed where she pressed her face down into the pillow and pulled the clothes over her head.
When Marilla came up for the light, she saw the untidy way the clothing had been thrown on the floor. She carefully picked up Anne's clothes, placed them neatly on a yellow chair, and then, taking up the candle, went over to the bed.
“Good night,” she said, a little awkwardly, but not unkindly.
Anne's white face and big eyes appeared over the bedclothes. “How can you call it a good night when you know it must be the very worst night I've ever had?” she said disapprovingly. Then she dived down into the bedclothes again.
To bed went Matthew. And to bed, when she had put her dishes away, went Marilla, frowning most resolutely. And upstairs, in the east gable, a lonely, heart-hungry, friendless child cried herself to sleep.
——END——